


I Wait For Form

by babykid528



Series: Let Chaos Storm [2]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Dom/sub, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Sensuality, Term of Endearment Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2528981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/pseuds/babykid528
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“There’s more to this kind of relationship than fast and hard,” Bruce tells him. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to show you.”</i>
</p><p>  <i>This kind of relationship. Chris’ heart does a little jump at that.</i></p><p>  <i>He starts to nod but stops himself and answers with a firm, “Yes, please.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wait For Form

**Author's Note:**

> This is the long-awaited sequel to [Reunion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1147666), and the second fic in the "Let Chaos Storm" series.
> 
> The titles for this sequel and for the series are from [Robert Frost's 'Pertinax'](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse/48/1#!/20580335).
> 
> MUCH thanks to my awesome friends on tumblr for all their excitement and support when writing this.

Chris opens his front door without fumbling his keys. He’s surprised he manages it, actually, what with Bruce standing close enough that Chris can feel the heat radiating off of him.

 “I was rearranging some furniture yesterday,” Chris says as he turns on the lights, “So the place is actually clean.”

 He shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over a chair by the door while Bruce looks around.

“The place looks great,” Bruce says.

 “It’s different from the last time you saw it,” Chris tells him.

 Bruce nods, “It’s been a while since I was here.”

 Chris swallows down the lump forming in his throat.

 It _has_ been a while since Bruce was there. A long while. Too long. Chris had hosted a kind of house-warming party when he’d first finished decorating the place, and Bruce had been one of his many guests, but that was ages ago now.

 He clears his throat before motioning toward the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink?”

 Bruce shakes his head no and asks, “Do you?”

 Chris looks at him a moment without saying a word, then shakes his head. “No. I’m good.”

 “Good.” Bruce smiles while he says the word. “Come here then.”

There’s a shift in that one sentence. A shift in Bruce’s inflection, his demeanor, his everything. His voice is the same as always, but also completely different. Chris’ breathing falters and his knees feel weak. He knows this shift. He loves this shift. He’s powerless against it.

He steps forward into Bruce’s space and casts his gaze down.

“No,” Bruce tells him, nudging Chris’ chin with his crooked finger, “Look at me.”

Chris does as he’s told. He locks his eyes with Bruce’s and nervously licks his lips.

Bruce’s finger lingers beneath Chris’ chin.

“There we are,” he says, voice surprisingly gentle.

Chris widens his eyes at his guest then. Bruce doesn’t fail to notice.

“Last time we did this,” Bruce explains, “it was rushed and rough and you liked that. Yes?”

Chris nods.

The last time had been the first and only time. Chris had been a mess about Pike dying in Into Darkness and Bruce had promised he could take Chris’ mind off of things.

He’d certainly done just that. Hard and fast, holding Chris down, making him beg. Right on set, in Bruce’s trailer of all places, where anyone could have, and probably did, hear them.

Chris had never come so hard before and he’d done it on command.

“Words, Chris,” Bruce prompts him now.

“Yes,” He sputters. “Yes, I liked it.”

Bruce grins and strokes under Chris’ chin once, “Good boy.”

Chris bites back a groan. His dick is becoming increasingly interested in every word Bruce has to say. That phrase – _good boy_ – in particular.

“There’s more to this kind of relationship than fast and hard,” Bruce tells him. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to show you.”

 _This kind of relationship_. Chris’ heart does a little jump at that.

He starts to nod but stops himself and answers with a firm, “Yes, please.”

Bruce’s grin turns into a full smile.

“Wonderful,” Bruce says, “Let’s go talk.”

He turns and walks toward the living room couch then, leaving Chris confused in his wake.

 _Talk_. That is not exactly what Chris had in mind when they’d left the premiere. He follows anyway and drops down onto the couch beside Bruce.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks.

“Well,” Bruce says, “We should have had this discussion before we did anything last time, actually. That’s my fault. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had an amazing time,” Chris tells him, confused.

“I know you did,” Bruce says with a grin, “You just confirmed that for me at the door. And I very vividly remember just how amazing you thought it was in the moment. I appreciate how much of a talker you can be in bed, by the way. I don’t know if I mentioned that before.”

Chris feels himself blush.

Bruce brushes his fingertips across Chris’ hot cheek before saying, “It was amazing for me too. In case you were concerned.”

Chris drops his head. He was concerned, just a little, mainly because Bruce hadn’t initiated anything with him since. Chris hadn’t wanted to seem needy or desperate or something, though, so he’d purposely not said anything.

“The enjoyment of the experience is not the point, at the moment.” Bruce says. “I had a responsibility to discuss the situation with you before we did anything. A responsibility to discuss it beyond asking for your consent to sex. That’s what I’m apologizing for now. For not doing what I should have done.”

Chris looks up again, quizzically, and Bruce sighs.

“I’m all over the place right now.” Bruce tells him, “Let me go back to the beginning… Chris, I’m a Dominant.”

Chris huffs out a small laugh, “Yeah, I noticed.”

Bruce smiles in return. “Yes, you did.”

“I’m a sub,” Chris says, but it comes out more like a question.

Bruce tilts his head slightly and asks, “Are you?”

Chris blinks a moment, licks his lips, and thinks.

“Have you ever done anything like this before? Participated in Dom/sub play or scening?” Bruce asks. “I want you to tell the truth. I’m not looking for a particular answer here, just honesty.”

“I’ve almost done it before,” Chris answers as honestly as he can. “My past partners have flirted with the idea. The idea of me dominating them, anyway. I’ve held a few people down. One guy wanted me to insult him and call him names while I fucked him, but I hated it… There were never any serious scenes with anyone though, and no one ever wanted me to submit.”

“You have a theoretical knowledge,” Bruce says.

It’s not a question, but Chris answers anyway, “Yeah. I read about it. A lot, actually.”

He feels the blush on his cheeks renew.

“That’s a start then,” Bruce tells him. “Did you like the things you tried in the past, other than the name-calling?”

Chris shrugs.

“I guess?” He answers, “I liked holding my partner down. Or the idea of it. It was less exciting in practice… I think, actually, I liked the idea in reverse and I just didn’t know enough at the time since no one had ever offered to hold me down instead, you know?”

“It’s okay to like both,” Bruce says, “You can like dominating and submitting.”

Chris nods, “I know. I remember. Maybe I’m a switch. I’m not sure. All I know is I liked dominating in theory more than in practice and I really fucking enjoyed submitting for you. In practice and in theory.”

Bruce chuckles, “You’ve been thinking about it a lot since it happened?”

Chris huffs, “Fuck yes.”

“I take it you know from your research that there’s more to kink than just rough sex,” Bruce says.

“Yeah,” Chris replies. He’s beginning to feel like he’s taking a pop quiz. “There’s a non-sexual side of it. And a 24/7 lifestyle.”

“Mmhmm,” Bruce hums in agreement.

Chris opens his mouth to ask something, but he closes it again.

“What?” Bruce prompts.

“It’s nothing –”

“Chris,” Bruce says, his voice full of warning, “you’re not being honest.”

Chris swallows, roughly, before saying, “I was wondering where exactly your wife fits into this.”

It’s something Chris has wondered about for a long time. Since they first had sex in Bruce’s trailer. Since before that, even. Back when they were just flirting obviously and outrageously on set.

“Susan knows all about you,” Bruce tells him.

“Oh God, please don’t use the word ‘arrangement’ with me right now,” Chris warns.

Bruce laughs, “Fine, I won’t. But she has given me permission to sleep with you as long as I come home to her and describe what we do in complete detail afterwards, so there’s nothing to worry about where she’s concerned.”

“Oh God,” Chris groans, face hot once again. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“I’m glad you asked, actually,” Bruce tells him.

Something blooms warm in Chris’ chest when Bruce says that.

“Uh,” he stumbles in reply, “thanks for being honest?”

Bruce shakes his head, but he’s smiling when he does it, “Honesty is non-negotiable here, Chris. We’re going to be negotiating a lot, but not about that. Communication is key.”

Chris furrows his brow.

“You keep talking about this like we’re entering into a business contract,” he says, “A long term one.”

Bruce leans back into the couch then.

“Well,” he says, “It certainly won’t be as formal as a business contract, but it is a contract of sorts. I take this very seriously, which I think you’ve picked up on since we started talking. It would be far too easy for me to just get you to your knees, agreeing to everything I ask of you, whether you want it or not.”

Chris looks down at his knees and shivers, equal parts turned on and terrified because he knows Bruce is telling the truth.

“That would be abuse though,” Bruce says, voice firm and somehow more serious than it already sounded, and Chris looks up at him again, shocked.

“I want to dominate you, Chris,” Bruce continues, “I don’t want to abuse you. We need to be very specific about the things you want done to you, the things you want to do to me, the things I want to do to you, and the things I want done to me. This needs to be a structured relationship so we can have the safest, most mutually pleasurable experience possible. Or we can’t do this.”

Chris licks his lips again, and nods, “Okay.”

“As for this being long term,” Bruce says, “I don’t expect you to commit to me or anything. I’m not asking you to go steady. This can be casual and it can last for as long as you want it to. If we decide to end it after tonight, or before we even begin, that’s fine. Or if we carry on for a while, that’s fine too. There are rules but there aren’t rules about that. We can end things whenever either of us needs to end things.”

Chris chuckles, feeling a bit less anxious suddenly, “Okay.”

“Questions? Comments?” Bruce asks, voice teasing.

Chris smiles, “Yeah, are we going to have sex tonight?”

Bruce laughs, a booming sound that fills the quiet room. Chris watches bemused.

“We need to lay some ground rules first,” Bruce answers, “Afterwards, there may be sex, if that’s something we both want. If we do have sex, though, I haven’t decided yet if you’ll be coming tonight.”

“Well, fuck,” Chris breathes, eyes wide.

Bruce leans forward, sitting up straighter, and brushes his knuckles under Chris’ chin again.

“Such an expressive face, you have, Christopher.” His tone sets the nerves at the base of Chris’ skull buzzing.

“You’re going to kill me,” Chris says on a whimper.

“Now, my sweet boy,” he responds, “Why would I ever want to do that?”

“Fucking hell,” Chris groans.

“Hmm,” Bruce smirks, “Seems like someone has a term of endearment kink.”

“Apparently,” Chris agrees, completely bewildered.

“Excellent,” Bruce says, stroking down the length of Chris’ neck with the backs of his fingers. “What other kinds of kinks are you interested in?”

Chris laughs and it sounds almost manic.

“Is that too much to process right now?” Bruce asks, smugly.

“Kind of,” Chris admits. He feels adrift in a vast sea of possibility just contemplating that question.

“How about I tell you some of the things I would like to try with you at some point,” Bruce suggests, “and you can tell me if any of those things interest you.”

Chris nods, mouth dry, “Okay. Yeah.”

Bruce mirrors his nod.

“First off, every Dom is different. I want to make that known right away. And not all Doms and subs work together,” Bruce says. “We’re clearly compatible sexually and at least incidentally compatible as a Dom and sub. But the way we fucked last time is not the way I usually play. I can be that rough for you as often as you need me to be, but I prefer a more sensual approach to Dominance. There are a few fantasies I have in mind that I think will better illustrate my meaning.”

Bruce pauses of a moment and gathers his thoughts. Chris watches him, transfixed.

“I want you to kneel for me,” Bruce explains, “I want to spend an entire afternoon with you kneeling at my feet, close enough to touch and pet, while I work in my studio. Or here, if you prefer. I want you to be quiet and patient while we sit together. You naked, me fully clothed. My attentions will be on whatever I’m working on, but I’ll touch you however and whenever I want. When I’m done with whatever I’m doing, if you’ve been good for me, I’ll pull you into my lap and jerk you off while I whisper praises into your ear. You’ll be able to come for me then, when I tell you, or not at all.”

Chris’ vision blurs at the mere description of the scene Bruce has just created.

“Thoughts?” Bruce asks.

“I,” Chris struggles to answer. “That sounds good. Really good. Great actually.”

“How would you feel about being hand-fed while you were kneeling for me like that?” Bruce asks.

Chris blushes and he pictures Bruce’s fingers brushing his lips, putting food in his mouth.

“I would like to try that,” he says.

Bruce nods before continuing.

“I’d also like to hold you in my lap,” he says. “Again, you’ll be naked and I won’t. I’ll touch and pet you and laud you with praises and pet names until you’re so hard you might come untouched. You won’t though. You’ll be good and hold back. And I’ll kiss you softly. Memorize the shape of your mouth with mine. Then bring you to bed and hold you close until you fall asleep to the sound of my voice.”

Chris lets out a strangled whimper.

“Sound intriguing?” Bruce asks, eyebrow raised.

Chris nods quickly, “Yes. Very. Fuck.”

“You’re hard just imagining it, aren’t you?”

Chris swallows roughly, “Yes. Very fucking hard.”

Bruce smiles at him and tells him, “Good boy.”

Chris closes his eyes against the wave of dizziness that hits him when Bruce says that godforsaken phrase once more. Something snaps within him and he speaks out before he can think the better of it.

“What about now though?” he says, “You keep talking about things you’d like to do over time. What do you want to do to me tonight?”

“You’re so impatient, Pine,” Bruce tsks.

Chris deflates a little, feeling a surprising rush of guilt and anxiety at the way Bruce uses his last name.

Bruce smirks.

“What’s the matter?” He asks. “You don’t like your last name?”

“I like it just fine,” Chris tells him, gritting his teeth, “Just not when _you_ use it, _sir_.”

Chris throws the honorific out there irreverently, but he’s curious to see how Bruce will react to it.

“You can call me sir if you want,” Bruce tells him, like he can read Chris’ mind, or just see through his impudence to his true intentions. “You don’t have to though. I’m more than happy to hear you say my name.”

Chris swallows, his throat suddenly feeling tighter.

“Bruce,” he says and shivers. He clearly sees a wave of arousal cross Bruce’s features.

“That’s better,” Bruce says, voice huskier than before.

They stare at one another for a few seconds before Chris announces, “I need some water.”

Bruce nods, “Why don’t you get us both some. If you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing. I don’t mind at all,” Chris says in a rush. He stands up in a swift, surprisingly graceful movement, and walks into his kitchen.

He fills two glasses with cold water from the pitcher in his fridge and then he refills the pitcher. He leans back on the counter opposite the sink and watches as the water drips through the purification filter.

He can’t tell if he’s grateful for the momentary distance or if being even this far away from Bruce right now is making him feel more emotionally drained than their conversation already has made him feel.

When the pitcher is done filtering, he puts it back in the fridge and goes back into the living room with their drinks. When he passes Bruce his glass, their fingers brush and Chris almost fumbles his own water. He blushes furiously, again, and notes the way Bruce’s lips arch into a smug smile.

Chris sits and takes an inelegant gulp of his water before placing his glass out of reach on the table so he doesn’t accidentally knock it over.

“You really like dominating,” Chris says.

It’s not a question. It’s obvious to Chris that Bruce is enjoying being in charge of this situation. It was obvious to Chris that Bruce fully enjoyed being in charge of Chris the time he held Chris down on the set of Trek and made him shout so the whole crew could hear.

Bruce nods, confirming Chris’ statement needlessly.

“I really do.”

“Why?” Chris asks. He’s curious. After all, he’s tried it in the past and it just didn’t affect him the way it clearly is affecting Bruce. And Bruce isn’t even touching Chris or telling him what to do right now. He’s just sitting there. Even just sitting there, though, he’s still in charge of the situation and he’s clearly loving every second of it.

“Well,” Bruce stops to take a final sip of his water before putting his own glass beside Chris’. Then he asks, “Why do you like to submit?”

Chris blinks, caught off guard.

“I don’t know,” he says, struggling to find words to explain. He’s only submitted once before. He doesn’t even know where to begin with his answer.

Bruce reaches out and puts his hand on Chris’ knee.

“It’s okay,” he says, voice gentle.

In that instant, the frustration that was building in Chris over not having the words to answer dissipates.

Bruce rubs his thumb across the side of Chris’ knee.

“You should think about it as we go forward,” he says. “I’ll give you an answer once you have a better understanding of it yourself.”

Chris feels relieved and disappointed at once and he swallows roughly before replying, “Okay.”

Bruce rubs his hand up and down Chris’ thigh then and even though he doesn’t say the words, the praise behind that action is loud and clear. Chris takes a stuttered breath.

“Now,” Bruce redirects them, “I’ve told you the kind of dominance I like to practice. You’ve told me you’re amenable to trying it out. If you want anything different, anything at all, you tell me. You hear me, Chris?”

“Yes,” Chris replies, dutifully.

“In fact, I want you to think about the things you might like, stuff you want to try, and make a list,” Bruce says. “Not tonight, but before we get together again. If we get together again.”

Chris nods.

“Do you have a safe word in mind?” Bruce asks then.

Chris’ eyes widen.

“I’m not jumping into the deep end of dominance and submission with you, sweatheart,” Bruce explains, “But you are always my number one concern and I need to know you can tap out if you get uncomfortable for any reason. You can choose a word, or you can use another system if you’d like.”

Chris’ brain feels like it’s full of fog, but he’s clear enough to suggest, “What about the traffic light system?”

Bruce smiles wide at that, pride radiating off of him, and Chris’ dick twitches in his pants.

“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop,” Bruce says and nods, “That’s good, sweetheart.”

Chris can’t stop himself from leaning forward, toward Bruce as he praises him again.

Bruce leans forward too, reaches out his free hand, and buries his fingers in Chris’ hair. He tightens them just enough for Chris to gasp at the tug on his scalp.

“Color?” Bruce asks.

_It’s a test._

“Green,” Chris sighs.

Bruce tightens his fingers.

“Now?” He asks.

“Green,” Chris says again, voice cracking.

Bruce tightens the pull again, and Chris winces.

“And now?” He asks.

“Yellow?” Chris asks.

Bruce tilts his head, but relaxes his pull on Chris’ hair slightly.

“You sound unsure,” He tells Chris at the same time that he tugs sharply on Chris’ hair again.

“Ouch,” Chris yelps, followed by a definitive, “Yellow!”

Bruce relaxes his grip completely and massages Chris’ scalp with the pads of his fingers. His scalp tingles and aches in a way that leaves Chris breathing heavy, eyes fluttering shut.

“Better now?” Bruce asks.

Chris nods and murmurs, “Very green, yes.”

Bruce chuckles at that.

He leans in to kiss Chris’ mouth while Chris’ eyes are still closed. Chris leans into the kiss, desperately. He blushes furiously as he moans.

Bruce slides his fingers out of Chris’ hair and cups his face in both his palms as he deepens the kiss.

He pulls back and Chris tries to chase after his mouth, but Bruce’s hands hold Chris’ face steady.

Once he’s sure Chris will stay put, Bruce drops his hands and he moves so he’s sitting back, settled into the couch. He watches Chris, making sure he stays still, and then he smiles and pats his lap.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he instructs.

Chris scrambles to straddle Bruce’s legs. Once he’s situated, Bruce places Chris’ palms down on Chris’ own thighs. He keeps Chris anchored above his lap with his own hands linked at the small of Chris’ back, just above the swell of his ass.

“You’re such a good boy, Christopher,” Bruce tells him. “So eager to please.”

“Bruce,” Chris says in reply and it sounds like a plea.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Bruce asks.

Chris is having trouble stringing words together. He’s completely hard and desperate to press his dick against Bruce. But he stays still, hovering above Bruce’s lap, waiting for permission.

“I want to come,” Chris says, blushing worse than before at the frank admission.

Bruce’s gaze manages to look both adoring and predatory all at once.

“Do you think you deserve to come?” Bruce asks.

Chris hesitates for a fraction of a second, but he nods.

“Use your words,” Bruce chides.

“Yes, Bruce,” Chris groans.

“Hmmm,” Bruce hums. “You were mostly patient while we talked tonight. I suppose that deserves a reward.”

Chris is practically vibrating above him as Bruce silently contemplates whether he’ll let Chris come.

“I’ll give you some options for tonight, sweetheart,” Bruce tells him, pressing the fingers of his right hand more firmly into the small of Chris’ back.

Chris waits patiently for Bruce to continue.

“Your first option,” He says. “You jerk yourself off for me to see, right here in my lap, but you won’t come. Once I’m done watching you squirm I’ll give you the chance to beg me to let you come. If you ask pretty enough, I’ll finish you off with my hand, otherwise you’ll have to wait until morning. Either way I’ll lay you out next to me and jerk off on your chest, marking you.”

Chris swallows hard, his throat dry, as he nods.

“Second option,” Bruce says, “You strip and kneel for me right here so I can fuck your mouth for as long as I like. If you can get me off once I’ve told you to make me come, I’ll let you hump my leg until you come all over my pants.”

Chris bites back a whimper and nods again, face hot with a dark blush.

Bruce grins.

“The third and final option,” Bruce says, “is for you to strip and get on your bed so I can finger fuck your ass, at whatever pace I decide, until it’s sufficiently prepped for my cock. Then, I’ll suck you off quick and dirty while you shout my name, and after you come, I’ll fuck your gorgeous ass until I’m finished with it.”

Chris blinks rapidly and focuses on remembering to breathe.

Bruce brushes his thumbs over Chris’ lower back.

“Which scenario sounds best to you right now, Chris?”

Chris plays through the possibilities outlined in every one of those scenarios in his head as he contemplates which one to choose. He knows Bruce could pick any of the three and whatever he picked would result in a fucking amazing night for the both of them, but Bruce is letting Chris have whichever one he wants. He’s giving Chris a gift and it’s touching in a way that Chris never imagined a choice of filthy sexual scenarios could be.

He has to fight the urge to press himself close so he can snuggle into Bruce. Bruce may be into sensual D/s, but he’s certainly not into Chris doing things like that without asking permission first. Not right now, anyway, when he’s in full Dom mode.

Chris clears his throat and stares into Bruce’s eyes. Bruce is waiting patiently for him to choose, but Chris can tell his patience is beginning to wear thin.

“I’d like option three, please,” Chris says.

Bruce shifts his hands slightly then and presses his fingertips into the flesh of Chris’ ass as he smiles.

“You’re just dying to have my cock again, aren’t you?” Bruce says. The words come out unbelievably fond.

Chris nods, suddenly feeling desperate for more physical contact. It feels like Bruce is miles away, not mere inches, and Chris has to do everything in his power to not wrap himself around Bruce like an octopus.

Bruce must see the struggle clear as day on Chris’ face because he takes one of his hands from behind Chris, brings it to Chris’ face, and cups his cheek with it. Chris nuzzles into it, releasing a grateful whine, and Bruce soothes him with soft shushing sounds.

“Give me a color, Chris,” Bruce instructs gently.

Chris struggles with what to say before finally mumbling, “Yellow.”

Bruce instantly loses some of his edge, but none of his authority, and he pulls Chris flush to him, hugging him tight. Chris melts into it, but doesn’t remove his hands from his thighs.

“You’re such a good boy,” Bruce coos into Chris’ hair as he presses his hands into Chris’ back. “You can touch me. It’s alright.”

Chris nuzzles his face into Bruce’s neck then and grips the back of Bruce’s shirt in his fists.

“You’re feeling overwhelmed, huh?” Bruce asks.

Chris nods into his neck and Bruce tightens his hold on him slightly.

“Tell me what you need right now,” He instructs, voice soft and soothing.

Chris takes a few deep breaths, pulling Bruce’s scent into his lung, filling them with it, before leaning back.

“Can you just kiss me a little?” he asks.

Chris isn’t sure it’s what he needs, but it’s what he wants. And that will have to suffice for now.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Bruce answers, eyes warm and sincere.

He slides his hand up Chris’ back, cups the back of Chris’ neck, and pulls Chris forward so he can lean up and press their mouths together. 

Bruce swipes his tongue across Chris’ teeth when he changes the angle of the kiss and Chris sighs, some of the tension relaxing out of his shoulders and back. Bruce takes advantage of that and kneads his fingers into newly lax muscle making Chris groan.

“Poor baby,” Bruce murmurs against Chris’ mouth. He presses their foreheads together before he continues. “I gave you too much, too fast. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

A sob-like noise escapes Chris’ throat and he tenses again as he holds onto Bruce tighter.

“It’s okay,” Bruce reassures, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not gonna leave you like this. We’re not stopping anything unless you ask me to, okay? We’re just taking a breather for a moment.”

Chris lets out a gust of air he didn’t realize he was holding in his lungs and he calms once again. Bruce mumbles praises at him as he presses strong, sure fingers blindly into Chris’ back and shoulders, grounding him.

“I’ve got you,” Bruce tells him.

And that’s it. Just three words and Chris eyes are prickling. He shakes his head, trying to regain some semblance of control over himself, as he blinks back the burn of tears.

“Christopher,” Bruce says, voice firmer suddenly.

When Chris doesn’t respond, Bruce reaches up and grips his chin roughly to force Chris to stop moving and focus on him.

“What?” Chris snaps.

“Stop,” Bruce says, voice remarkably calm in spite of Chris’ attitude.

Chris can feel himself deflate a little and he apologizes.

“It’s okay,” Bruce tells him, chucking him under the chin, and Chris settles again.

He takes a few deep breaths to mirror the ones Bruce is taking, and he feels the sudden panic he was gripped with leach out of him. He presses close to Bruce again and nuzzles his forehead against Bruce’s temple.

That earns him a small smile.

They sit still for a few minutes, just breathing slowly together.

“You still feeling yellow?” Bruce eventually asks.

Chris takes a deep breath and releases it out of his nose. He shakes his head slowly.

“No’m green again,” he says.

Bruce’s smile widens and he kisses Chris before telling him to stand up. Once Chris is on his feet, and steady, Bruce stands up as well.

“Go into your bedroom, strip down, and get on the bed,” Bruce instructs, back to business.

He brushes his knuckles across Chris’ jaw and Chris leans into the touch before nodding his ascent. He turns wordlessly to go to his bedroom, reluctantly but obediently leaving Bruce behind.

He strips quickly, folding his clothes carefully and placing them on top of the hamper lid in the corner so he can send them for dry cleaning tomorrow.

By the time he’s naked and climbing onto the bed, Bruce still hasn’t joined him. He’s just beginning to feel antsy again when Bruce appears in the doorway, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows.

Chris and Bruce watch one another, neither moving. Chris doesn’t even blink until Bruce finally takes a step into the room.

“I want you to get yourself comfortable, Chris,” Bruce tells him.

Chris is lying tensely in the middle of the bed, and he takes a few slow, deep breaths, trying to relax back into the mattress. It’s a far from easy thing to do. It feels like hours go by before Bruce speaks again.

“Color?” He asks.

Chris releases one last breath on a sigh and tells Bruce, “Green.”

Bruce tilts his head and watches him, like he’s making sure Chris isn’t lying.

Chris bristles.

“I thought this kind of thing was supposed to be based on trust,” Chris says before he can think the better of it.

Bruce’s expression turns flinty and he squeezes Chris’ chin before removing his hand from Chris’ face.

“I foresee a lot of discipline in the near future, if you keep testing me,” Bruce says, voice matter of fact.

Chris doesn’t flinch. Just barely.

“I think I made it fairly clear that I’d rather spend my time on other things, Pine.”

Chris can’t suppress the flinch at his last name.

“Sorry,” he says, turning an apologetic look Bruce’s way.

Bruce reaches out and trails the pads of two fingers down Chris’ cheek and sighs.

“I’m being and will continue to be very patient with you, Chris,” Bruce says, “Until I’m not.”

Chris bites his lower lip and stares up at Bruce.

“I know this is new,” Bruce continues, “We’re figuring things out as we go. You have a lot of… _leeway_ to react and act out right now. As things come together and what we want becomes clearer, that leeway will slowly disappear. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Chris says while nodding. The head motion rubs Chris’ cheek against Bruce’s fingertips.

“Good,” Bruce says, features softening as he pets Chris’ cheek again, “Now, where do you keep your lube and condoms?”

Chris grins and Bruce mirrors it.

“In the nightstand,” Chris answers.

Bruce approaches the indicated bedside table and finds the lube in the front corner of the top drawer, close to the bed. He holds it up, looking faintly amused, and he shakes it slowly at Chris.

“You go through a lot of this stuff, huh?” he asks.

Chris blushes and fights back a smirk. The bottle’s half-empty.

“You and your hand or you and someone else?” Bruce asks, voice casual.

Chris blushes darker, face burning with heat.

“A little of both,” he confesses, “though mostly me and my hand lately.”

Bruce shoulders shake like he laughs, but he keeps it silent.

“I’ll have to make a list of supplies we’ll need to get before next time,” he says to Chris as he pulls out the almost empty box of condoms from the drawer.

Chris groans out, “Okay.”

Bruce flashes him a predatory grin. He pulls out one of the condom packets and he approaches the bed. He drops the condom and lube beside Chris’ hip and pats his thigh.

“Spread your legs,” he says, “And press your hands to the headboard.”

Chris complies, slowly spreading his limbs.

Bruce nods.

“Good,” he says, “Just a little more with the legs. Bend your knees too and put your feet flat on the bed.”

When Chris adjusts, Bruce leans into the bed.

“Perfect, Chris,” he tells him, rubbing his knuckles across Chris’ knee.

Chris shivers.

“Are you going to be a good boy and stay spread wide for me, sweetheart?” Bruce asks, turning his hand over to press his fingertips into the skin just above Chris’ knee, “Or do I need to find something to tie you down with?”

It takes a second for Chris to decide on an answer.

“I’ll be good,” he says, voice thick.

Bruce nods again and the pleased crinkles at the corner of his eyes as he pets Chris’ thigh warm Chris all over.

He removes his hand and Chris has to bite back a protest, but then Bruce is climbing onto the bed and settling himself on his knees between Chris’ spread legs. He’s still clothed and the sight makes Chris flush, a full-body blush.

Bruce seemingly ignores it and reaches for the lube. He leaves the condom beside Chris’ hip.

“Well,” Bruce says, finally breaking the silence they’ve slipped into. “Let’s see how good you can actually be.”

He presses the pads of his fingers against the inside of Chris’ thigh then, at the knee, and slowly runs them up toward Chris’ groin.

Chris trembles, the touch too much and not enough. He let’s his eyes fall closed as he arches his back, full of anticipation.

“Eyes open, Christopher,” Bruce says, voice commanding but gentle.

Chris does as he’s told, breath catching, as he makes eye contact with Bruce once again. Bruce pets the juncture of Chris’ thigh and pelvis, scratching his nails lightly against the sensitive skin. He smiles as Chris’ breath stutters on a whine.

“Good boy,” Bruce tells him, rubbing his knuckles across the underside of Chris’ balls.

“Fuck,” Chris yelps at the contact before clamping his teeth together, stifling any further noise from escaping without permission.

Bruce rubs the back of his hand up against Chris’ balls with more intent.

“You are allowed to react verbally, Chris,” Bruce tells him. “I don’t want to silence you. Not tonight, anyway.”

Chris whines, loudly, in response.

Bruce turns his hand and cups Chris’ balls, rolling them in his palm, and Chris shouts out another curse before begging, “Bruce, _please_.”

Bruce narrows his eyes and tightens his grip, making Chris gasp.

“Please what?” He asks.

“I need,” Chris whines.

“You need what, Chris?” Bruce asks.

“More,” Chris fights to say the word while splaying his fingers against the headboard and flexing the muscles in his thighs.

Bruce squeezes a little tighter before releasing his hold on Chris. He rubs the backs of two of his fingers against the base of Chris’ cock, then reaches down, rubbing his fingertips between Chris’ ass cheeks. Chris’ foot slips when Bruce swipes over his hole and he cries out at the contact, voice breathy.

“You like this,” Bruce says, “I remember.”

Chris nods and there’s a lack of finesse to the motion, a frantic quality he tries to fight. But then Bruce is uncapping the lube and drizzling it cold over his exposed asshole, rubbing his fingers around it, pressing the tip of one finger into him, and Chris chokes, eyes and jaw shut tight.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” Bruce instructs, voice gentle but leaving no room for argument, as he works his finger further into Chris.

Chris does as he’s told, just barely, and groans at the sight.

Bruce smiles. Honest to God smiles. He removes his finger then, adds more lube, and presses it back into Chris, slowly adding a second. Chris trembles.

Bruce presses his free hand to Chris’ abdomen, just a gentle pressure. A reassuring weight and warmth, and he shushes Chris.

“Relax,” Bruce says so quietly, he’s practically whispering.

Chris throws his head back against the pillows, let’s some of the tension bleed out of his neck and back. He pushes his hands against the headboard again and rocks toward Bruce, pressing down around his fingers, before settling.

“There we go,” Bruce murmurs, pleased.

Chris moans and gasps Bruce’s name again.

Bruce changes the angle of his wrist in response and works the two fingers in Chris’ ass until they crook against Chris’ prostate. Chris shouts out, scratching at the headboard and curling his toes into the sheets.

“You would be so much fun to milk,” Bruce says with one more swipe of Chris’ prostate.

“Bruce!” Chris yells his name, hard cock leaking against his stomach, unsure of whether he wants Bruce to stop or continue.

Bruce removes his fingers though and Chris lets out a needy, desperate sounding groan. He removes the steadying hand from Chris’ abs, too. Brushing Chris’ erection, making it jerk.

“Don’t!” Chris protests Bruce’s retreat, “M’still green!”

Chris looks down at Bruce’s huffed laugh.

“I need a little more lube, sweetheart,” Bruce tells him, re-slicking his fingers, before returning them to push into Chris again.

He adds a third finger to the two returning and Chris gasps, suddenly unable to get the air his dizzy brain is begging him for.

Chris clutches at the headboard, fingers slipping against the flat, shining wood, and he digs his heals into the mattress. And then Bruce’s mouth is engulfing the head of his cock.

And it’s too much.

Chris whines and whimpers. Pieces of Bruce’s name stick to the roof of his mouth as he tries to speak, only broken consonants and vowels escaping.

Bruce pets his abdomen with his free hand, a firm caress that Chris knows is meant to ground him. It doesn’t quite work though.

Bruce must sense it, because he runs his hand further down, scrapes his nails through the hair at the base of Chris’ cock before tugging it firmly at the same time the fingers still inside him rub across his prostate again.

Chris yells out, or he tries to. He opens his mouth wide and feels the sound bubbling beneath the surface, but no noise escapes. His whole body goes taut then trembles and he’s coming hard into Bruce’s mouth. So hard he’s sure it will never stop.

Then the tension seems to just bleed out of him.

His body seems to collapse into the bed and he can finally gasp out a harsh sob.

His ears are muffled with the sound of the blood rushing in his veins, the air filling his lungs, huffing in and out in rapid succession. He doesn’t know Bruce has spoken to him until Bruce’s face is hovering above his.

“Christopher,” he says his name like he’s said it a few times already. “I’m going to need a color from you now.”

He caresses Chris’ cheek then, scratches his nails through Chris’ stubble, and Chris presses his face into the touch, unashamed and hopelessly needy.

“Green,” he answers, or he attempts to. He’s not sure his voice has exactly returned.

Bruce nods and Chris knows that even if he didn’t make a successful sound, Bruce knows what he is trying to tell him.

Bruce moves his hand, traces his fingers across Chris’ shoulder and up along the length of Chris’ arm before he brushes them across the backs of Chris’ hands where they are overlapping, still pressed to the headboard.

He leans in, mouth close to Chris’ ear.

“You are such a good boy, Christopher.”

He says the words on a whisper, and Chris shivers, leaning toward the heat of Bruce’s breath. Bruce indulges him and presses his mouth to Chris’ sweaty skin, just beneath his ear, before leaning back.

Through his continued haze, Chris hears a zipper and the sound of the condom wrapper being opened. And then Bruce is pressing his lubed up cock into Chris’ ass.

Chris gasps and squirms against the pressure, his skin sensitive from being fingered in the aftermath of the orgasm he just had. But Bruce presses in fully and groans, eyes dark.

“Christopher,” he says his name and it’s enough to make Chris moan again.

Bruce pulls out slowly before pressing back in again.

Chris babbles something incoherent in response.

Bruce pulls out again and hooks one of his arms beneath one of Chris’ knees, pulling Chris’ foot off the bed in the process.

Chris tries to protest, Bruce had explicitly told him to keep his feet where they were, but Bruce reassures him with hushing sounds and soft touches to his ribs and stomach.

He sets up a hard, slow rhythm, fucking Chris into the mattress. Chris just lays there, taking everything given to him, pressing his head back and gasping wordlessly.

He feels like he’s floating and sinking all at once.

Then Bruce’s words cut through the fog and Chris recognizes he is being lauded with praise – _such a good boy, the best, Chris, you’ve been perfect, taking everything so well, you did everything I asked, so behaved, so disciplined, I am so proud of you, my sweet boy, my sweet, sweet boy._

Chris’ spent cock actually twitches in response and he releases a choked sob. His face is slick with sweat and, he suspects, tears. He tries to find the words to beg Bruce to come, but his mouth can’t quite form them. Not when he feels this far away and under.

Bruce continues to fuck him at that methodical pace, Chris isn’t sure for how long, and then he stills, pressed deep inside Chris, and comes.

Chris can feel fingers digging into his hip, bruising him, and he moans along with Bruce as they both ride out Bruce’s climax.

Chris isn’t sure when Bruce pulls out and away from him.

He has a vague awareness of Bruce straightening his legs and lowering them flat against the bed, of his hands being pulled down from over his head and laid out at his sides, of fingers running through his hair, and of lips against his face, tasting the salt on his skin.

He feels the bed jostle as Bruce leaves it, and he feels it jostle again when Bruce returns.

Then there are lips pressing against his and gentle words being said to him that are lost in his gasping mouth.

There’s a cool, damp cloth rubbing across his hot skin, starting from his face, and wiping soothing trails down his neck, his chest, his stomach. Bruce cleans up Chris’ cock with something like reverence and Chris hisses when he moves on and swipes the cloth against his sore ass.

The cloth disappears then and Bruce’s lips are against Chris’ ear, asking him to come back down to him.

Chris turns, leaning into Bruce helplessly, and he blinks, struggling to comply.

Bruce’s fingers massage Chris’ arms and Chris groans, becoming more aware, his brain less clouded.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Bruce murmurs, kissing his forehead.

Chris is becoming increasingly aware of how exhausted his body feel the more alert he becomes.

He blinks one more time and looks up into Bruce’s eyes.

Bruce moves his mouth as if he’s about to say something, when Chris croaks out, “Green.”

Bruce’s face breaks into a brilliant smile, eyes full of affection.

Chris’ hands shake, his arms feel like jelly, but he reaches out and pulls Bruce to him as best he can.

Bruce goes willingly.

Chris isn’t sure when Bruce shed his clothes, but he’s naked when he presses against Chris and Chris feels his eyes well up with new tears at the much needed skin-to-skin contact. He doesn’t even fight the sob that bubbles up out of his throat. He was embarrassed to react this way earlier, but he doesn’t have the energy to be embarrassed any longer.

“I’ve got you,” Bruce assures him, wrapping himself firmly around Chris, cradling Chris to him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

The words only seem to make Chris’ tears fall hotter.

“My perfect boy,” Bruce coos between kisses to Chris’ face.

Chris leans up into it, angling his head so he can press his mouth to Bruce’s. Bruce leans to make the angle easier for them both, tangles his legs with Chris’, and pulls Chris tighter to his chest. He gives him everything Chris wants but doesn’t have the words to ask for.

“Bruce…”

“Chris,” Bruce replies, squeezing Chris a moment.

“Thank you,” Chris tells him, pressing his palm to Bruce’s face, hesitant but full of need. So much need.

Bruce looks at a loss for words for a moment before he nods.

“Thank you,” Chris repeats, tears ceasing.

“Thank _you_ , Chris,” Bruce says, voice rough at the edges.

Chris snuggles closer, humming contentedly, nuzzling his face against Bruce’s neck.

Bruce holds him tight for a little longer then whispers, “I’m going to need to let go of you for a bit, okay?”

Panic wells up in Chris’ chest so quickly, his entire body tenses.

“No, no, shhh,” Bruce soothes. “Look at me.”

Chris leans back just enough to make eye contact with Bruce.

“I need to take care of your legs, sweetheart,” he says. “They’re going to cramp up if I don’t massage them. Just like your arms, okay?”

Chris holds on to Bruce hard enough to leave his own finger-shaped bruises on his skin.

“I’m not going anywhere, Chris, I promise,” Bruce says, voice somehow more gentle than it already was.

Chris feels completely bewildered, but he nods anyway, and loosens his grip.

“Good boy,” Bruce tells him, rubbing his fingers across Chris’ jaw before tilting his chin up so he can kiss Chris’ mouth.

Chris relaxes almost completely at that and Bruce slowly pulls out of their tangle.

He moves down Chris’ body, maintaining contact by dragging a hand across Chris’ skin as he moves. He kneels between Chris’ legs, a mirror of his earlier position, and he begins massaging Chris from the foot on up each leg, paying extra attention to the thigh on the leg he had hooked over his arm.

Chris honest to God misses Bruce tangled around him, even with Bruce still touching him, but Bruce’s kneading hands manage to keep any more panic from rising up and gripping Chris’s chest tight. Chris actually feels himself relax as Bruce does his thing.

When Bruce is finished, and he slides back up the bed to wrap around Chris again, Chris is practically purring.

That doesn’t stop him from clinging to Bruce as soon as he’s lying beside him again though.

“You’re going to stay tonight, right?”

The question is out there before Chris can think the better of asking it.

Bruce hugs him tighter and nods against the top of Chris’ head.

“Yeah, Chris,” he assures him, “I’m spending the night.”

“Your wife?” Chris asks.

Bruce chuckles.

“I’m beginning to think I didn’t do my job well enough,” he says, “if you’re able to think and ask this many questions after everything we just did.”

Chris feels himself blush at that and Bruce’s teasing chuckle turns into a full laugh. He holds Chris tighter still and Chris can’t stop himself from smiling against Bruce’s skin.

“I called her earlier, at the premiere,” Bruce answers Chris’ question after the laughter dies down. “She’s not expecting me home until you’re ready to let me go.”

Chris takes a deep, stuttering breath at that and releases it slowly.

He doesn’t say anything in reply. He wouldn’t have the words to even begin to respond to that. Not in a way that wouldn’t absolutely mortify them both.

Bruce doesn’t seem to expect a reply though. He just presses his lips to the top of Chris’ head and hums reassuring vibrations against Chris’ scalp as they drift off to sleep.


End file.
